Disjointed
by DecayingInRed
Summary: Attempting to lead a "normal" life while being kept hidden inside the mansion by her brother, Laura quickly learns that time doesn't heal all wounds. Darkfic. TW: Incest, Dubcon, Torture, and Gore.


**A/N:** Another one I originally put up on AO3. This is very dark. _WARNING:_ Contains incest, gore, torture and dubcon. If any of these make you uncomfortable for any reason then leave now.

* * *

One flip of a switch and the lights flickered on with a low buzz to reveal a hooded figure entering the room. Not bothering to close the door fully, Ruben walked briskly towards the sink, exposed hands wringing together as warm water and soap rapidly turned red. He watched until it all disappeared before reaching over to grab a hand towel from the rack. As the soft bristles dried up his ruined flesh, the clicking of heels sounded off in the distance; getting closer by the second.

The hinges made no protest as she pushed the door wide enough for her to enter.

"What are you doing?"

He folded the towel into a neat bundle before placing it on top of the rack. "Drying my hands."

"That's not what I meant."

His body tensed. Reluctant to face her with his bandages removed, revealing all. Not wanting to show her his pitiful excuse of a body. Not wanting to destroy that memory of the happy blonde boy playing in the fields for her. Not when she was so _perfect_.

Ruben sighed. "Did you need something?"

Chewing the bottom of her lip, Laura took a step forward but thought better of taking more. "No," she replied, her tone soft. "Just wanted to say that dinner is ready."

He gave her a small nod, forcing his jaw to relax as he spoke. "Give me a moment to change first, and then I'll join you. Thank you for telling me."

"Don't take too long."

* * *

She doesn't remember their dinners being so cold and lifeless.

Dinner with their parents had never been brimmed with such tension. Perhaps after Father and Ruben had a disagreement over something, yes. But the overwhelming sense of unease that she was now experienced hung above them like the blade of a guillotine, ready to be released at a moment's notice.

Delicately nibbling on a small piece of lamb, the ticking of the grandfather clock being the only sound in the room, Laura's eyes dared to steal a glance next to her. At the top of the table sat Ruben, fresh bandages expertly woven around any burns, showing only the small part of his face that managed to not get mangled by the fire. Stomach turning at the memory of the flames engulfing her, she put the fork down.

The action had not gone unnoticed it seemed. After taking a moment to savour the sup of red wine, Ruben set aside the glass and turned his attention over to his sister. "You've barely touched your food," he noted. "Are you feeling ill."

Laura repressed a shiver as she dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin. "Oh not at all. I haven't really been hungry at all, if I'm quite honest. Just one of those days." She offered a reassuring smile yet his expression didn't change; steel eyes bored through her, much paler than what she remembered them to be.

"You haven't eaten properly for over a week now."

"I know…" she sighed. The grandfather clock continued to tick. "It'll just take time."

Not quite satisfied but knowing he wouldn't get any more out of her he returned to his meal. "You look very beautiful."

All of a sudden the wine appeared to be incredibly tempting. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes darted around the room, avoiding him. They stopped after she emptied the remainder of what was in her glass, resting on the black bracelet that covered her wrist - part of a matching set along with a choker adorned with a cameo that she was wearing now. A gift from her brother not long after she woke up nearly a month ago. "Thank you."

_Tick, tock, tick, tock._

Mother would always find a topic of conversation if there was ever an awkward pause at the dinner table. Whether it be the weather, how their days went, what a distant relative was currently doing, or relaying a story a friend discussed with her over tea. Friendly chatter always filled the air; a much appreciated distraction when tensions brewed between the two men in her life. Sadness pricked her heart and deeply set root in her chest, wrapping itself around any part of her and tugged so hard she found herself unable to breathe at times.

Oh how Laura missed her.

When Ruben broke the news of their parents' death, she cried herself for days to the point of being physically sick. She was already struggling to remember how to walk at the time; wheelchair-bound and heavily relying on her brother for everything.

A car crash, he explained. Showed her the newspaper articles as proof when she refused to believe. He held onto her so tightly as she sobbed into his chest, tears staining his white shirt and the bandages underneath.

_Tick, tock, tick._

"...I'd like to go see the graves tomorrow, if that's okay with you."

_Tick, tock._

Stopping the fork just inches away from his mouth, Ruben took a moment to ruminate over the suggestion. For a while the ticking was the only response that came. Finally, "We'll see."

Thin eyebrows knitted together as Laura shook her head. "I'm not accepting that," she protested, knuckles turning white as she balled up a clump of her dress. "I want to see them… to say goodbye. Yet, here you are stopping me from seeing them."

_Tick._

"I'm protecting you from any more grief! Stopping you from going back to square one. Trying to make sure that you're safe. So here I am." His reply was too sharp for both their likings, Ruben could only manage to let out a defeated sigh. "I'm sorry."

Stabbing the lamb and ripping it apart with her knife, all well-taught manners long forgotten about, before chucking it into her mouth.

"...Laura?"

It was Ruben that sat at the table yet all she could see was her father; stern-faced and proud. A man who always held a small amount of resentment for being born with the lack of something dangling between her legs, removing any chance of her being named his true heir. And always so goddamn controlling. Always under critical analysis and scrutiny. Ruben didn't despise her - she had no doubt. But he _was_ controlling.

_...More so than Father._

"It's fine," she said between bites, eyes refusing to meet his desperate stare.

Long blemished fingers found their way around her hand, a calloused thumb stroking each knuckle tenderly, almost like an apology. When she remained motionless the heavy chair squeaked against the flooring, an arm wrapped around her waist as he still held onto her hand. The cloying smell of various ointments mixed in with the familiar scent of antiseptic filled her nostrils. Among a dozen other things that she forced herself to become accustomed to, the oils and lotions that he smeared all over his body was one of the hardest. From the moment he was capable of carrying out his little experiments, Ruben had always smelled like the inside of a hospital. However, breathing in the aroma of aloe vera and several others was only another reminder as to what happened.

Nuzzling her hair and the rim of her ear, his breath hot and almost feverish against her skin, Laura let his hand roam up and down the length of her waist. Eyes suddenly burning up, she gently pushed him away excusing herself before running off. Halfway up the stairs she could hear the unmistakable sound of glass shattering.

* * *

Nighttime rituals hardly changed since before the accident. Although it never brought as much comfort anymore.

Small bristles combed through long black strands with delicate care, the silver-plated brush glinted in the light emanating from the lamp on her bedside table. Staring into the mirror, Laura took in every single detail of the stranger on the other side. Her hair - the only physical aspect of her that she took pride in - retained its magnificent glory. She could hardly see the scars that were covered underneath her hairline.

Her face looked different, somehow. Her eyes seemed to be the same as she remembered them to be; pale and icy, like frozen pools. Her skin was like porcelain, unblemished from the freckles she had since childhood. Vanished. It was flawless. _Too flawless_. Even the shape of her face seemed… off. Almost inhuman.

_A beautiful monster…_

Laura dropped the brush onto the vanity table with a loud clatter. Pulling the sheet over her reflection, not able to brave through removing her choker and bracelets, she slipped out her normal clothes and into a red nightdress made of the finest silk. And not just any red. The kind of red that _bled_ with carnal promises. When she first set her eyes on her new wardrobe, she found the rather womanly and somewhat… sexual outfits to be quite disturbing. The question as to who chose them never needed to be answered. They were clothes that befit being given to by a lover, not a younger brother with seven years of a difference between them.

Suddenly the age gap seemed like such a huge deal now. Neither of them cared little about it; to them, it never even existed. Others be damned if they thought that it was inappropriate for her to play and dote on her baby brother - it was out of pure innocent love.

...But Ruben was no longer the baby brother she knew. Not only because of his current personality and attitudes, but the way he looked. And she wasn't talking about the scars. Compared to her, who looked like she was in her early twenties, he looked… much _older_. The dark circles under his eyes showed only accentuated the deep lines that surrounded those cold greys. Sad to say that Laura doubted that he got those from being cheery. Why did she look so young when time caught up to him with a cruel claw.

She shivered from under the thick quilted blankets, frozen glass staring up at the white ceiling.

* * *

_Useless._

When the boy began to choke on his own vomit, Ruben's lips pulled back in disgust as he toyed with the orbitoclast in his scarred hand, completely free of bandages. Nothing to hide from down here. The heir of the Victoriano fortune didn't fear being seen by such pitiful microbes. Such vermin. Bags of meat and blood that would help aid in his research; their only meaningful contribute out of their insignificant lives. Specimens that proved how millions of years or evolution were wasted on some.

He couldn't move. The top half of his skull was removed to reveal that invaluable grey organ, pierced in various places by a few other orbitoclasts, each pinpointed in each significant region of the brain. "You had no business coming here," he growled, circling the chair like a vulture about to peck off the already dead. "Let me guess: you're one of those reporters?" The gargling began to grate his nerves. Pulling out a small hose similar to the ones dentists use, he washed out the boy's breakfast and vacuumed the excess water.

_I've zero intention of letting you die just yet._

"Or where you just snooping around to catch a glimpse of the famous _freak_?!"

The boy merely whimpered in response, brown eyes wide and wet, snot dripping down his bare wisp of a moustache. He must've been in his early twenties but still looked like he hadn't escaped from puberty at all. He was handsome as well; Ruben imagined that he drove the local wenches crazy with his soft brown locks and brown eyes. He thought about the crowd doting on him, and a face appeared among those dull, mindless girls.

Laura.

_**His**_ Laura.

Nostrils flaring and grey eyes turning cold, Ruben dropped the surgical tool he held onto the tray beside him to grasp for another. Oh how it gleamed…

The subject was screaming wordlessly now. Hot tears flowed freely down his pretty little cheeks. Thoughts of his beloved kissing them away seared through Ruben's mind. Soft pink lips pressing against that vile mouth, whispering words that dripped with love and seduction. ...The thought of this worm taking her… _**ruining**_ her…

The scalpel dipped in the pad of his index finger drew back towards the base. "You saw _her_ didn't you?!" Ruben hissed. "Did you _want_ her?" He brought the blade back up to the top and made a new incision, making sure that it was as slow and painful as the last one. "You fool. You bloody insignificant fool. No one is going to take her away. " He leaned into the boy's ear, teeth bared. "She. Is. Mine."

Pinching the tip of the carved skin he began to pull. The screaming heightened and warped into something not human. Each new strip of skin torn away was vengeance against phantom crimes. If Laura had been discovered then his whole carefully crafted plan would become all for nothing. The world would never understand her… understand them. He would not take that risk, no matter the cost. She was safe as long as she was with him, that's all that mattered.

When all that remained of his hands were exposed bone and muscle, Ruben made quick work of torn worm. Down a small passage he carted the body to where he disposed of all the bodies. The body flopped against other corpses, all at various stages of rot. From underneath the cowl he saw the severely decayed body of a woman strewn next to the boy. Like the others her skull was cut open and the brain removed. However, unlike the others, where they retained their pulled back scalps, she was completely missing hers. And two flaps of skin where her eyebrows should be.

* * *

Peaceful slumber seemed like such a foreign concept to her now. No longer did she dream about playing in the fields with the little blonde boy she had known to be her brother, or about what her future would hold, or even enjoy the comforting darkness that went by in almost a flash. Instead she was plagued with screaming, flames, and burning.

There's no escape, nowhere to hide. She calls for help but no one is coming. There isn't a soul left in the barn but herself. The smell of burning flesh blended together with the smoke, choking her. Every gasp of breath she had twisted into a blood-curdling scream.

Hot. So hot.

She manages to glance down at her hands. The sleeves were burnt away into nothing, revealing blistering skin and melting muscle. She could see each boned on the back of her hands, fingers fused together as stumps. Black hair, her only crown, was taken by the flames as they lapped everywhere around her body.

One jerk and she's brought back to reality, fresh tears staining pale cheeks. Rising up in a frenzy, Laura switched the bedside lamp on and stared at her quivering arms. A scarred hand gently took hold of a wrist, as if handling the wings of a dying butterfly.

"It's alright," he whispered, pulling her into his exposed chest, all sense of self-consciousness gone. His skin felt strange against her cheek; warm and leathery. She welcomed it as she clung onto him with every ounce of strength she could muster. "You're safe. Nothing's going to harm you, I promise."

"I died in the fire."

The statement gouged through his insides like a boar's tusks, ripping and tearing him asunder. His throat tightened while he hesitated to answer. "Yes," he croaked, wrapping his arms around her tighter, preparing for the moment that he tried so hard to avoid.

Deathly silence hung over them once more; both afraid and unable to find the right words to say.

"...How did you-"

"_Don't_." It took every ounce of self-restraint he had not to crumble in her arms, preferring to bury his face in her hair to hide his shame instead. "I'm begging you… whatever you do, please don't ask me that."

There she lay on that cold slab, looking more like a shattered doll than a human being. Piece by piece, connecting all the nerves with surgical precision, attaching new limbs to each joint. Sculpting and molding cheekbones like some macabre Michelangelo. He made certain that she was perfect. Aged appropriately so she would stay timeless forever. She wouldn't be a young girl anymore but a woman grown.

The knife twisted, remembering the very first time she woke up. Connected to the machine she seemed almost peaceful. He took a brief respite from the horrors as he stared at her tranquil face. The moment was ripped in an instant once he pulled the switch. Her eyes snapped open and bore into him.

And the _screams_…

"That doesn't matter anymore," Ruben rasped as he cupped both her cheeks. "What matters is that we're together. No one is going to take that away." He felt like a ten year old boy again, vulnerable under her stare. "I love you, Laura."

A small smile crept up on her lips as she stroked his cheek with the ball of her thumb. "I love you, too."

He leaned in closer, pushing her back onto the soft mattress. Heart fluttering to a different tune, she voiced her concerns aloud only to be silenced. Rough, cracked lips sought her own, pressing gently to test her reaction. Satisfied with the lack of a negative response he grew more ravenous, his tongue parting hesitant lips, relishing the taste of her. He could feel her breath hitch and her body tense as his hands glided up her smooth legs, reaching underneath her nightdress and lifting the thin fabric up.

A small gasp escaped from her as the chilly air stiffened her pink nipples. She watched as dead greys wandered over her body, devouring her. "Ruben, this is wrong. W-we shouldn't." Ignoring her soft protests, his hands roamed all over her body. Only stopping to gently knead her soft breasts, taking an erect nipple in his mouth and sucking, rolling his tongue over it and playfully tugging it between his teeth. Laura moaned and arched her back, pressing herself against him and gripping the sheets. All questions on whether this was right or wrong quickly evaporated as Ruben moved his attention to the other nipple.

What was she doing? This was so wrong. _This was so wrong_.

It didn't matter anymore. Only him and his touch.

Letting out a strained whimper in disappointment when he wandered away from her breasts, Laura watched as Ruben unclasped the bracelets, kissing each stitch that wrapped around her wrist before doing the same to her choker. He traced the scarring across her neck. _An eternal necklace_. With a free hand he parted her legs to glide deft fingers over her sensitive clit, eliciting a deep immodest moan from his beloved sister. He took a moment to bring a glistening finger to his mouth and suck her in.

Not standing to be teased anymore she opened up completely to him, offering him the entirety of herself. "Ruben, please…" Her weak voice came out as a haggard whisper.

The corners of his ruined lips twitched into a coy smile. "As my beloved commands." Removing all other garments - for a rare, grateful moment forgetting his husk of a body - he positioned himself between her legs, hovering over her like a vulture as he guided himself inside. Rolling his hips gently and watching her face intently, he took extra care to not hurt her.

Once she felt the tear, her eyes clenched shut and teeth gritted, writhing in pain underneath him. She tightened involuntarily around him, and Ruben attempted to soothe her with kisses and caresses. When she felt able to continue, Laura gave him a small nod; he continued to worship her with his mouth as he slowly thrust in and out of her, eventually gaining speed and grunting all the while. Long nails dug into his back, creating new future scars as another shudder rolled over her body as she screamed his name to the heavens.

After pulling out he wiped his seed off of the inside of her thigh before collapsing in a heap beside her. For the first time in a long while, the silence between them wasn't cold and distant. Instead there was a shared warmth and comfort in it. Words weren't necessary.

A few minutes passed until their breathing became even again. "I love you," Ruben whispered, fingers entwined with her own as he stroked black tresses.

A serene smile crept on Laura's lips. "I know. As do I."

* * *

**A/N:** One of my favourite problematic pairings. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed. Please leave a review and lemme know what you think and any way that I can improve.


End file.
